Confused Recognition
by artisticshraderstudio
Summary: ONESHOT Toby is reflecting on some strange cases of nostalgia he's had growing up. I may continue the story if I get a response.


There are times when I was growing up when I would get a strong sense of nostalgia. That in itself probably wasn't the strangest thing to feel, but it would come from the weirdest provocations.

A bookend in my sister's room, a toy that my mom always tried to hoist off on me, or a barn owl that lived somewhere nearby; they all brought this weird sense of having seen them somewhere else before.

I never understood any of it, or the look of panic on my sister's face when she noticed that I saw something. It only ever stayed for a flash before she directed me away from it, but I couldn't help but wonder what was so scary about some bird or some toys that weren't even mine.

As I grew, the look came less and less, until I was around 13. At that point, we were moving and we were going through our things to sell or give away so that our new house could be filled with new things that we could show off to our new friends.

I was bringing down a box of my stuff when I saw my sister, who was helping us for the day, looking through a box with a sad smile. It was the same box of items that she seemed so worried about me being near.

I just rolled my eyes.

"Thought you didn't like any of that junk."

She looked up with a start and closed the flaps of the box. "These were apart of my childhood, I can say goodbye if I want to."

"Why not just take them with you, if they mean so much to ya."

She shook her head and sighed, "I only really want this one book that I had. The other stuff can go."

I just shrugged off the sigh with another eye roll. "You're so weird, but if I see it I'll hand it over."

She nodded and turned with the box to load it into the car.

Loading up my box, I flipped hers open a bit. It was filled with old toys and some odds and ends. The bookends that always seemed to make me giggle when I was little were there. Some red and orange feathered boas that I vaguely remember my sister dancing with and tickling my face as a kid were there. I also saw a scramble board that was tilted on its side and had spilled half the tiles.

Going to rearrange the game board, I noticed something that seemed to glow slightly and upon closer inspection, it was a ball. The smooth crystalline ball rested on top of a red leather-bound book with gold embossed letters on the cover.

Tucking the book under my arm, I looked at the sphere a little closer. It was about 3/4 the size of a baseball and felt cool to the touch and something about it felt so familiar. I couldn't look away just yet.

There was some memory of bright colors and movement and I felt my brows furrow as I grasped at the memory.

Nothing else came and in frustration, I turned and threw the glass into a nearby tree.

Instead of the shattering of glass, it just fell apart as it hit the trunk, similar to a snowball. The remains sparkled in the light and I just felt like there should've been something more; there had to be more.

Looking for any kind of answer I flipped open the book, it looked like a play, which wasn't surprising considering Sarah still loved theatre, but it was about some goblins stealing a baby.

I was about to dismiss it as some kind of Brother's Grimm ripe-off when there was a line that resonated again.

"Give me the child."

I could hear a flurry of wings as I looked down at the neatly printed words on the page, but I didn't care. There was something so familiar with that phrase. Flipping back to the beginning of the scene I read through the well-worn passages, quietly reading aloud certain parts to get something to make sense.

Distantly I heard the front door open, but I only really paid attention when I heard something break.

There stood Sarah, a horrified look on her face and a box of broken plates at her feet. Her dark hair whipped around her face in a wind I hadn't noticed before as she started to run towards me, only for my world to fade from a swirling white to a pitch-black as I fell backward, unconscious.


End file.
